


Golden Pothos

by othersunsets



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst and Feels, But I probably will, Childhood Trauma, College Student Eren Yeager, Eren Yeager is in Denial, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Modern Era, Plant Nursery, Reincarnation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, hopefully, i hope i don’t cry while writing this, itll take a minute but i swear the wait will be worth it, to be specific
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28550541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersunsets/pseuds/othersunsets
Summary: You don’t know what caused you to apply for a job at a plant nursery. That was far from your area of expertise. You just know that a promise was made, long ago. A promise you intend to keep.
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader
Comments: 37
Kudos: 103





	1. Soil

It smells like dirt and prosperity in here, and you’re terrified.

There is a flurry of movement, customers making their way up and down the aisles, leaning down to float their fingers over petals and bright green leaves. The room is humid, but comforting, as if the air is attempting to hug you through your soft black shirt. 

Employees in long beige aprons are on high alert, walking loudly while pushing past with wheelbarrows, discouraging people who get bold enough to touch the plants for too long. 

You struggle to keep up with the person in front of you, their messy brown hair pulled into a high ponytail being your guiding light as you make your way through the plant nursery. 

You can’t help but feel like you’re out of your element here-the few plants that you’ve attempted to take care of in the past were cacti, and all of them died.

Which is very frustrating, to say the least. You were under the impression that cacti were impossible to kill. 

“Sorry about all the fuss!” your potential boss (whose ponytail has been acting like a north star through the bustling crowd for the past few moments) says as the two of you reach their office. It’s barely an office; in actuality, a tiny desk has been shoved into the corner of the area itself. The desk is hopelessly cluttered, full of trinkets and various items. 

This is only part of the nursery, you quickly realize, where most of the customers reside. The structure looks like a greenhouse; it’s as if someone took an endless amount of clear tarp and fashioned it to look like some kind of see through chalet. Rows of potted plants of various kinds fill the structure, and some even hang on the ceiling as well. A quick look outside boasts even more rows of greenery, unfettered by the greenhouse structure. The plants outside seem to stretch in rows that are somewhat endless. It’s much less cramped out there-there are two employees spread out and tending to plants separately, stopping ever so often to lift their heads up and take in the scent of the soft breeze.

“It’s not usually this busy, I promise you. Spring is quite hectic, but by September things should quiet down,” they continue, plopping themselves down on their desk chair with a huff. They pull off a glove, giving you a hand to shake. “I’m Hange,” they add, giving you a toothy smile that instantly puts you at ease. You smile in relief, shaking their hand.

Hange yanks out a stool from behind them and hands it to you, and you take it gladly, sitting down. The heart is unrelenting today, even in this tarp structure. You can’t imagine what it must be like to be working directly outside right now. 

“So,” Hange says, reaching for a clipboard and flipping through a few pieces of recycled paper inquisitively, “you’re looking for a job here, yeah? Got any experience?”

You feel your heart start to seize up in your chest, and you shake your head in response. Here’s where the hard part starts. 

“No,” you say. “But I'm definitely willing to learn!” you add, throwing in a genuine smile of your own. Hange nods, reaching for a pen and scribbling something completely incomprehensible on a sheet of paper. You like Hange’s handwriting-it's almost as if their brain moves so fast that their hand has to struggle to keep up. It’s strangely comforting. 

“What position do you want?”

“Hm? Position? I...don’t...”

“What position,” Hange asks again, the side of their mouth lifting slightly in amusement. “Backend or front end, or...you know what I mean, right?”

“I think I do...uh...Backend?” you guess. 

“Okay, so you wanna work with plants more. I respect that. This is more of a boutique store though, yeah? Not all flashy and retail. Independently owned and all that. So the good news is this isn’t some corporate hell-hole. The bad news-which I don’t think is bad news personally, but to each their own-is that everyone’s got to do a little of everything.” Hange writes down something else. “We’ve only got about seven employees hired here, including me, and everyone’s always working the floor, including me. So you won’t shit your pants if I make you work the register, right?”

“I’ll try not to,” you reply back. Hange gives you an appraising nod. 

“Good. I like you. Sorry about the shit joke-I sound like Levi-You’ll meet him eventually-his husband Erwin owns this place. I just do the day to day operations. It’s a small, tight knit ship, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

You nod during Hange’s ramblings, trying not to dig your fingernails into the skin of your palms as you wait for their final word. No matter what, you are willing to beg for this position. It’s not just that you need the money (although, you definitely do)-it’s also because of something utterly unexplainable.

If Hange asks you why you want this position, there's no way you can tell them the truth. 

Luckily, they don’t; instead, they clap you on the back, giving you that signature toothy grin. 

“Alright, you’re hired, why the fuck not. Let’s get you an apron and I’ll show you around, yeah?” Hange says.

You nod your thanks, feeling your heart leap in excitement as you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you so much, Hange. I promise I won’t let you down,” you find yourself saying, a twinge of desperation entering your voice. Hange cocks an eyebrow, clapping you on the back once more as the two of you stand up. 

“No need to thank me, yeah?” Hange says before steering you towards the front of the green house. You like them already. “Let me introduce you to everyone. This little shit is Connie,” Hange says, and a guy with a buzz cut turns around with a shovel in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Nah, don’t give me that,” Connie says. “That’s all Jean.”

“Did someone say my name?” another guy says as he approaches the three of you. He’s conventionally attractive, and he knows it, his head tilted as he gives you an appraising look. 

“I think your friend here inadvertently called you a little shit,” you reply, gesturing to Connie, and Jean’s face burns bright red. Hange lets out a blaring laugh, smacking you on the back so hard that you almost double over, before they pull you away from the impending catastrophe. If Hange hits you one more time you might pass out. But you appreciate the affection, so you won’t complain. 

“I knew I made the right choice, bringing you on,” Hange says, leading you further up the aisles. You smile politely, but there is still a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, a sense of knowing, of a purpose not yet being fulfilled. Not to mention the unshakeable feeling of disappointment when you realize that neither Jean nor Connie were the person you’re looking for.

But how could you be looking for someone? How could any of this make any sense? You had woken up in a cold sweat the day after college graduation, and had promptly quit your future job in advertising before finally looking up the one phrase that had been ruminating in the back of your mind for longer than you cared to admit. It’s not that you hated the idea of working in advertising (although it wasn’t particularly appealing). However, after that phrase had started to linger, loud and insistent, you knew you had to listen, and see where it led. 

Searching ‘Plant Corps’ had given you a pretty accurate result-a plant nursery about fourteen hours from your hometown. You had applied without giving it a second thought, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of your head that made it seem as this was somehow fated to be.

You remember the lecture from your mother who accused you of throwing your life away, of your choice to rent an apartment as close to the nursery as possible. On the long and winding drive there, you gripped the steering wheel like you were afraid it could fly away, your heart hammering fast and heavy in your chest.

None of this made sense. And yet here you are. You take a deep breath, willing the thoughts to go away.

“This is Sasha,” Hange says, and you take note of a girl with brown hair in a ponytail similar to Hange’s. She is standing at the register towards the front of the greenhouse, halfway through a bag of potato chips she’s trying to hide underneath the table. She jolts when she sees the two of you, rolling up the chip bag, opening up the register drawer, and shoving it inside.

“Hi!” Sasha says at a volume that is almost too loud for this ‘peaceful’ greenhouse. A few customers look her way, but she pays them no mind, choosing to wave to you while slamming the register drawer shut repeatedly only for it to pop back open. 

“I don’t think it’s gonna close with a chip bag inside,” you say, chuckling softly. You make your way over behind the counter, gesturing to the bag and Sasha’s apron. “May I?” you ask, and Sasha nods. You take the bag, rolling it closed carefully before placing it in the large front pocket on her apron. Sasha grins in gratitude. 

“Thank you! Wait-are you the new person?” She asks as you make your way back over to Hange. 

“Yes, I’m the new person,” You reply, and Sasha hums in approval before reaching into her front pocket to grab a handful of chips. Hange shakes their head, leading you outside. 

“Okay, that’s everyone on the front end. Let’s meet the backend people now, you’ll get your apron, and then we’ll be set, yeah?” Hange asks. You nod, and you squeeze your eyes tight for a brief moment to calm yourself. Whatever or whoever you’re looking for, they’re most likely outside. 

The sun is not as overbearing outside, surprisingly; something about the humidity in the greenhouse increased the sun’s rays. Out here, with the soft spring breeze in the air, it feels almost calming. Maybe you could make a home here, even though you’re almost halfway across the country, far away from home. You have to make things work. You’ve pretty much left yourself no choice. 

A boy with soft looking blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes comes up to you, smiling sweetly. He is followed by a stunning woman with pearly skin and jet black hair. 

“Hi,” the boy says softly, waving at you. “You must be new. I’m Armin, and this is Mikasa.” Mikasa nods at you; they both seem pretty reserved, which is honestly refreshing after the chaos that has been meeting the front end employees. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you say to them, and Armin shakes your hand. His hand is as soft as you’d expect, and he smells comforting, like fresh laundry after you lay it out to dry on a clothesline.

But he’s not the person you need to meet, and neither is Mikasa. No. 

Because the person you need to meet, the person you upended your life and drove fourteen hours for, is staring at you, several feet away, his eyes wide, as if he’s seen a ghost. 

It’s the chipped black nailpolish you notice first, prominent as he digs his nails into his crossed arms. Messy black eyeliner and a soft brown sweater like one your grandfather would wear. Long hair collected into a bun at the nape of his neck. Baggy light wash jeans and scuffed shoes.

Those are all the details you manage to gather together before you feel yourself start to fall apart. 

The last thing you remember as you hit the floor and your eyes start to close are his eyes as he stares down at you. 

As you lose consciousness, you swear that he could dig his way into your soul and destroy you from the inside out. 

And you would gladly let him.


	2. metaphorical barbed wire

When you come to, Armin is standing over you with a concerned expression on his face.

“You’re awake,” he says, smiling softly, although the look in his eyes reveals his worry. “We were going to call an ambulance, but Hange said not to.”

You don’t blame them. They were probably worried about the implications of someone they just hired collapsing in the middle of their store.

“You kept muttering in your sleep that you were fine, but…” Armin wrings his hands, watching you carefully as you sit up. You must be in some kind of large shed where they keep gardening materials; you’re lying on a cot, surrounded by a bunch of odds and ends and tools. There are two large metal shelves on either side of the room, stocked full with crates that carry even more tools inside of them. “We were still concerned.”

“I’m fine,” you promise Armin, managing a smile. “Where’s Hange? I should probably finish up my paperwork and everything.”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Armin says, surprised. He must have thought you wouldn’t have wanted to work here anymore, not with what transpired. But he was wrong. You have to work here. You have no choice.

“Why do I have to?” you hear a voice coming from outside and you instantly know who it is. You feel your face grow hot at the thought of him being so close, and you swing your legs off the cot, ignoring the concerned noise Armin makes as you stand up.

“Because I know this is your fault somehow,” Hange says, almost too loud, since their voice rings out, piercing through the thick doors of the shed. You hear footsteps as someone-presumably Hange, by the hurried gait-walks away. The doors slide open, and you blink as your eyes get adjusted to the intake of sunlight.

And there he stands, in shadow due to to the sun, his arms crossed as he looks at you.

“Hi,” you manage to say, taking a step forward, completely forgetting anyone else is in the room. Your voice comes out breathy, and it sounds faraway, as if it isn’t really your own. But you could care less, because here he is, finally in front of you.

“I’m supposed to help you get set up,” he says flatly, as if you didn’t just speak. He looks past you and nods, and you remember that Armin is behind you. You turn around, and Armin shoots you an apologetic look before turning to Eren.

“Don’t be mean, Eren, please,” Armin says. “She just woke up.”

Eren. So that’s his name. Eren.

You let the sound of his name echo in your mind, reverberating and sending chills through you. Eren, Eren, Eren.

“Hey,” Eren says to you, and you blink; you hadn’t realized you’d been lost in thought until he finally spoke to you. It’s still hard to see him from where the sun is positioned, and you have no idea what he’s thinking. You wish you knew.

Eren turns around and starts walking out of the shed, and you take that as your cue to follow him. His strides are quick and purposeful, and you struggle to catch up.

“Hange already showed you around,” Eren says this as more of a statement than a question, and you nod before realizing that he’s at least a foot ahead now and not looking at you.

“Yeah, they did,” you say, and once again, you hate the way your voice sounds. You can’t help it though-being around him like this is harder than you expected.

If Eren notices the way you’re acting, he certainly doesn’t mention it. In fact, he’s acting as if being around you is painful to him, which is more than a little hurtful to you. You can’t for the life of you figure out why he seems to hate you so much. His ‘Why do I have to’ still stings, even as he leads you into the greenhouse and over to the desk in the back of the area. Despite his apparent disdain for you, he pulls out the chair for you to sit down, and he sits on the edge of the desk instead.

You watch his fingers as they curl against the edge of the desk as he sits down on it; his fingers are painted black, but the polish is hopelessy chipped.

“Fill that out,” Eren says, gesturing to the paperwork on the desk.

“I don’t have a pen,” you say. Eren sighs, before digging in his front jean pocket and handing a felt pen to you leaking with blue ink. Your fingers brush together as he hands it to you, and you feel a jolt of electricity rush through you at the slightest contact.

Eren furrows his eyebrows, and lingers there for a second before he pulls away a moment too late.

“Thanks,” you say warily. It’s not hard to tell how much he seems to hate you, so the last thing you want to do is bother him. At the same time, you have to gather as much information as possible, to find out why you’re feeling this way.

“So...Eren...where are you from?” you decide to say. Eren shrugs.

“Here. Been here all my life,” he replies. You sigh in frustration. So you couldn’t have run into him at any point before now. You’ve never even been in this part of the country before.

“How about-” you start to say, but Eren cuts you off.

“Anyway-Hange told me to tell you this, but-every new employee gets a plant. As a welcoming gift. Not a balled and burlapped or bare root one or anything. But one in a container is fine,” Eren says.

You have no idea what most of those words mean.

Clearly, Eren can see that based on your expression, and he lets out a huff of breath, crossing his arms and scooting closer to you on the desk.

“You have no idea what I just said, do you?” he asks. There is a hint of judgement there, but it’s preceded by confusion, and unabashed curiosity. It’s as if Eren’s intrigue supercedes his apparent disdain for you.

“Uh….” you say, and Eren raises his eyebrows. He’s very expressive, you realize; different emotions flit across his face every few seconds. You have to admit that it’s refreshing being around someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve in that way.

Even if that sleeve is wrapped in metaphorical barbed wire.

“Have you ever even looked at a plant before?” he asks, condescending.

“Of course I’ve looked at a plant before. Don’t be stupid.” you retort.

“Really? You have?”

“Yeah. I used to own a few plants actually,” you lie.

“Were they clippings?”

“Huh?”

“Did you take a clipping? Did you root the plant cuttings and then propagate them? Or did you just buy a plant? What kind of plant did you have-”

“Okay, now you’re asking way too many questions,” you say.

And Eren lets out a breath of air that almost sounds like a laugh.

He catches himself too late, choosing to jump off the desk and walk over to a nearby row of plants, picking one up and walking back over to you. He places it back own on the desk with a bang, and you wince from the sound. You’re beginning to realize that Eren doesn’t take half measures. He is a coil of intensity and smart retorts and aggression, and it feels scary and new...but oh so familiar at the same time.

That’s the right word. Familiar. He’s so familiar. And you’re not sure how long you’re going to be able to handle that fact before you finally snap.

Eren seems to sense your shift in mood, because he crosses his arms, turning away from you and furrowing his eyebrows once more. It’s as if he decided for himself that he got too close for one moment, that he somehow let a guard down when he shouldn’t have. But only someone with something to hide would be concerned about that, wouldn’t they?

No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake the feeling that somehow, this is not the first time the two of you have met.

And you’re convinced that Eren knows that too.

“Here,” Eren says, pointing at the plant he picked out for you. “ It literally cannot die, no matter how badly you treat it.”

Eren is halfway out of the greenhouse before he turns back, smirking and holding a hand up to his face to call out to you.

“But hey! We’ll see, gorgeous. Maybe you’ll achieve what no one has in history-kill a Golden Pothos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do y'all think of tsundere eren so far? what do you think will happen next? lmk! thank you for your support and comments, they make my day :')


	3. overwatering

You come back to Plant Corps the next day with your head held high. The last forty-eight hours have been extremely chaotic, what with you completely uprooting your life and moving across the country, only to be hated by the person you ended up relocating for in the first place. 

Despite all of this, you end up outside, in the “backend” as Hange calls it, wearing an apron tied around your body and a pair of gardening gloves. Mikasa is standing in front of you, watching as you retie your apron for the hundredth time out of nervousness. 

“Sorry,” you tell her, finally satisfied with the knot you made, “I’m just a little nervous. First official day and everything.” 

Mikasa nods in understanding, and gestures for you to follow her to a row of plants at the edge of the field. Armin is a few paces away, his arms animated as he talks to Eren. Eren is nodding, but his body language is stiff, and if you didn’t know any better you would guess that he is actively trying not to look in your direction. 

“Today will be simple,” Mikasa says softly, and you look back at her. She hands you a watering can, and you wince at the weight of it-it’s much heavier than you initially expected. “We’re going to water the plants first.” 

“Oh!” you say, pleasantly surprised. “Okay. I actually know how to do that. I just have to not overwater them, right?” 

“Overwatering is relating to frequency, not quantity, most of the time,” Mikasa clarifies. “You should make sure the soil where the plant is planted is completely soaked. But most plants don’t need to be watered every day. If you water them every day, then-” 

“Then you’ll overwater them,” you finish. Mikasa nods and stands closer to you to watch you work. It seems like she’s warming up to you, slowly but surely. Maybe you’ll actually have someone to talk to in this place. Someone that doesn’t actually hate you. 

You make your way down the row, watering each plant as you go and refilling the watering can in a nearby trough when you need to. The late spring sun is almost unrelenting, and you take a moment to wipe your forehead on your sleeve. It’s much hotter and more humid here than in your hometown. 

“Excuse me,” you hear, and you turn around and see someone with long blond hair and bright blue eyes. They approach you carefully, seemingly wary of you because you’re new, but Armin and Mikasa, and Eren are preoccupied with other customers. “I have an azalea at home, and it’s dying. Do you have any idea what I should do? Should I repot it? I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong,” the person asks.

You blink, your mind going completely blank. It’s only your first day on the job, and already you’re being asked a seemingly tough question. You pause for a moment, unsure of how to respond. 

“Uhhh…” You say, and the person tilts their head, seemingly confused at your response. 

Suddenly you feel an arm around your shoulder, and it’s like your body is a live wire-you can feel every point where he is touching you, and he is squeezing almost too hard, but you could care less, because Eren is touching you. 

“You gotta add vinegar to the water when you water it, Historia,” Eren says, his arm still around you. “And don’t mind her,” he says, gesturing to you. “She’s new.” 

“Thank you both. And It’s good to see you again, Eren,” Historia says, smiling slightly. 

“Yeah. It’s been a while,” Eren replies. After Historia leaves, Eren speaks. 

“She’s a regular. Or at least she used to be.” 

“What happened?” You ask. Eren removes his arm from your shoulders, and you resist the urge to frown at the loss of contact. He picks up your watering can, rewatering the plants you’ve already worked on. 

“You gotta make sure the soil is evenly wet, gorgeous,” Eren says. At this point, you’re convinced that he’s only calling you gorgeous because he doesn’t remember your name. “And this other girl used to come here a lot. Ymir. The two of them got pretty close. Then things went south. That’s all you need to know.” 

“Oh,” you say, kicking around some dirt with your boots. Eren makes a noise, lightly stepping on your foot to stop you.

“Can’t do that. This is premium soil, yeah?” he says, you nod your assent.

“So how long have you been working here then?” you ask him. Eren tenses up, as he usually does whenever you attempt to get closer to him. He takes a step away from you, choosing instead to fill up the watering can in the water trough before speaking. 

“Since the beginning of college. I graduated recently.” 

“What was your major?”

“Sociology,” Eren says, and then continues speaking after a moment, as if he’s taking a risk by giving you more information. “I’m pre-med. Dealing with all that med school bullshit right now.”

“So you want to be a doctor? Wasn’t your dad a doctor?” 

As soon as you say those words, this weird jolt runs through you, and you take a step back from Eren, your heart pounding. You would have no way of knowing Eren’s dad’s job. You’ve never met Eren before today. But somehow, you know. You said the words without thinking, and lock eyes with Eren after a while, expecting him to look annoyed at best, or creeped out at worst. But no. He looks angry, as if you’ve said something you never should have said. But he doesn’t look surprised. And that’s what terrifies you most of all. 

“Yeah,” Eren says slowly, taking a step back from you to water another plant. “My dad was a doctor.” 

It’s the past tense that is the most telling. You know that Eren’s dad is no longer alive. Neither of his parents are. You’re not sure how you know, but you do. 

He doesn’t ask how you knew that. That would be a normal thing to ask in this situation, but Eren doesn’t. Because what you two have is already far from normal, and both of you know it. 

It’s like you’re both dancing around a secret, unwilling to discuss the inevitable. But even if you were to get Eren alone to talk, which is pretty much all your grand plan consists of, how would that help? What is it that you even need to talk about in the first place? It’s like there’s this blockage in your mind, like you’re so close to the truth but you can’t quite reach it. 

Maybe if you keep working here, and keep being around him, then all the scattered images in your mind will come back together, and form a moving picture of some kind, one resembling some sort of clarity. 

“So you’re following in his footsteps then?” you ask, trying to relieve some of the tension. 

But Eren’s not going to let you get that close. Not that easily. 

“Listen,” Eren says slowly, and already his words sound like some kind of a rejection. “I just need to let you know that I’m not trying to date anyone I work with.” 

His words carry a big assumption behind them, and you find your face get hot from shame and embarrassment as you dig your fingernails into your palms. Does he think you’re flirting with him? That’s where his concerns lie? 

The idea that you’re simply trying to date Eren makes this whole thing sound so trivial, makes the images that keep appearing in your dreams, the weird synchronicities, and your ultimate move here seem trivial. If you were trying to date him, then things would be a whole lot simpler. 

“And I just wanted to need to let you know that I’m not interested,” you say. “So you have nothing to worry about.” 

You turn on your heel and leave the field without waiting for a reply. You can hear Eren start to say something as you enter the greenhouse, but you block it out, choosing instead to make a beeline for Hange, who is sitting at their desk in the back of the room. 

“I want to work in front end,” you say angrily. “In here, from now on. Please.”


	4. pretty lady

“You’re saying you need me in backend?” you say, disappointed.

“Yes. For now, at least,” Hange explains. “You need to learn that rotation before you can move to the front. Listen, if this is about Eren-”

“It’s not, I swear,” you lie. “I just-I’d love a change of pace. That’s all.” 

Hange eyes you for a moment, clearly suspicious from the way their eyebrows furrow together as they tap their pen against their lips for a few moments, thinking. 

“I promise we’ll get you to work front end. Maybe in a few weeks or so. For now, let's see how you do outside, yeah? Mikasa can continue training you.” 

You resist the urge to sigh at Hange’s words, instead turning around to head outside. Eren is waiting by the doorway, and you ignore him, pushing past him on your way outside. Eren makes a surprised noise, like you’ve offended him, but you could care less at this point. You didn’t come here to be treated like shit. It’s time to get your act together so you don’t keep absolutely embarrassing yourself. 

“Mikasa,” you say as you approach her. “I’m just going to be frank-I know nothing about plants. Absolutely nothing. And I would love it if you would teach me. Please.”

Mikasa raises an eyebrow in surprise, then nods, gesturing for you to follow her. She makes her way over to Armin, whispering to him. Armin nods, and turns to you. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll teach you everything you need to know, okay?” Armin says, reassuring you. You smile, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You’re not alone here. Mikasa and Armin seem to be making sure of that.

“Thank you guys,” you say. 

“Okay. To start: Plants need water, sun, nutrients, and soil,” Mikasa says, walking over to a nearby row of plants. 

“Water, sun, nutrients, soil. Got it,” you say, nodding resolutely. 

“Different plants need different amounts of these things,” Armin chimes in. “Too much sun can actually kill a plant. Same with water and soil and nutrients. It’s all a balance, and you adjust it to the needs of the plant.”

“To be honest, I always thought you were just supposed to water a plant a bunch and leave it out in the sun and it would be fine,” you say bluntly. Armin laughs lightly, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you to a nearby plant. 

“Think about it like this-every single plant is unique and different, so they need different things. Take this one for example. This is a canna plant-see how colorful and tall it is? It needs a lot of sun, and a lot of water.” 

“That’s why it’s outside right?” You add on. “And some of the plants are in the greenhouse because they don’t need as much sun.” 

“That’s right,” Mikasa says softly, and you turn to look at her. “just pay attention to what the plant needs.” 

“Hey, give her a break yeah? She just got here!” A voice calls out. The three of you turn to see that attractive guy-you think his name is name is Jean, if you remember correctly-as he makes his way over to you, grinning. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and he is followed outside by Sasha, who waves; she’s holding a bag of potato chips in one hand. 

“Connie is gonna hold down the fort inside while we go to lunch. Wanna come with?” Jean asks you. 

“Sounds good,” you say, relieved. Seems like Eren is the only one who actually hates you here. Good to know. 

Speaking of the devil-

“What are you guys doing?” Eren asks, his hands in his hair as he takes it out of his man bun for a moment to retie it. You watch his nimble fingers as they smooth down the wayward strands, and you wish those were your hands, running through, making their way down to the sides of his face, planting soft kisses on his lips, the moonlight streaming down, the sound of metal and running and screaming, the smell of dirt and someone yelling-

“You okay?” Jean asks you, and you nod your head, shaking yourself out of your stupor. 

“She’s not okay because your grubby hands are all over her, Jean,” Eren says, and Jean sticks out his tongue at him. Eren actually looks annoyed, but you brush that throught away. He can barely stand the thought of being around you, and he literally just told you that he doesn't want to date anyone he works with, so why would he care?

You will yourself to stop thinking about him. And anyway, with the way that Jean is looking at you, it looks like you have other options. 

“Why don’t you just stay out here and watch the backend for us while the rest of us go to lunch, okay Eren?” Jean says. Sasha lets out a whistle of surprise before reaching back into her chip bag, and Eren grits his teeth, but says nothing. He stalks over to a nearby trough to grab a watering can, glancing at you and Jean with a look that you can only describe as jealousy. You can’t deny that. 

***

Jean has a car, a really nice older car that he briefly explains the details of to you, but you aren’t listening. It’s a two-seater, so he insists on driving you to the sandwich place while Sasha takes Mikasa and Armin in her pick up truck. 

“So,” you ask Jean as he drives. “What’s the deal with everyone?” 

“What’s the deal?” he says, smirking as he switches gears. “You want me to tell you all my co-worker’s secrets?” he teases.

“Well...yeah. Kind of,” you say. Actually, you just want to know one particular person’s secrets, but you figure it would be too obvious to ask outright. 

“Well, who am I to deny the wishes of such a pretty lady?” he says, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at how cheesy he is. “Sure. I’ve known Sasha and Connie since our freshman year of college-we all lived in the same dorm building actually, in freshman year. We all became friends, decided to work at a plant place cause we figured it would be easy pay. We were wrong,” Jean continues, laughing lightly as he reminisces. “Mikasa and Armin and Eren all knew each other-they were in the dorm building across the street. I guess they had the same idea, they all wanted to work together. It's wild to think I just graduated.” 

“Same. I feel that. So...you were all drawn to this place?” you prompt him. Jean nods after a moment, lost in thought. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. If I’m really reading into it, it’s kind of funny that we all ended up getting hired here at the same time. I don’t know.” 

“So you’re close with Sasha and Connie...what about Mikasa and Armin? And...Eren?”

“Mikasa’s cool. So is Armin, though I don’t talk to him as much. And I’m pretty sure you can tell how I feel about Eren.”

“Why do you feel that way?” you hedge. “Towards Eren, I mean?”

“I don’t know. He’s annoying, I guess? Couldn’t tell you. He’s always so pent up. You know? Lots of hidden aggression. But I can’t really blame him. He’s been through a lot.” 

“Like what-” you start to ask, but before you can continue, Jean pulls into the parking lot of the sandwich place, right next to Sasha’s pick up. 

“We’re here. I’d love to keep talking to you alone, pretty lady, but we got food to eat.” 

“Right,” you say, smiling at him. On the inside though, his words stay with you, and they feel so familiar, like it’s something you’ve already known. 

Eren has been through a lot. You know that. But what exactly has he been through?

What have you been through? And why can’t you remember?


	5. hydrangeas

‘You remember it so clearly. 

The feeling of the breeze rushing past your skin. The moon seemed so close, as if you could reach out and hold it in your hands, and bask in its glow. But your chest felt tight, your pulse racing. It’s like you were flying through the air. But there was no time to let the moon rest in your palm. 

Because you were flying away from something. And you were terrified.’

***

This time, you don’t completely embarrass yourself during your strange vision, which you consider to be a small mercy. This time, you’re able to make it to the back shed before the feeling completely washes over you like a wave. You can’t shake the fact that it feels so real, so vivid that you feel as though you could step into it. It’s nothing like any dream you’ve ever had before, which is what is especially confusing to you. 

You rest your hands against one of the metal shelves, letting your head hang as you try to catch your breath. You attempt to put the pieces together, to assemble scraps of the vision into something that makes some kind of sense. 

You can conceptualize the fact that you were trying to get away from something. But why it felt like you were flying is a mystery to you. 

“Hey. You good?” You hear an all too familiar voice say. 

You lift your head up, watching as Eren leans against the doorway to the shed, his expression completely blank. You’re pretty sure you weren’t speaking out loud or anything like that, so you’re not sure why he’s looking at you like that, like you’ve done something wrong. 

“Yeah. I’m fine,” you say, remembering Eren’s declaration of disinterest towards you not even two days ago. He takes a step further inside the shed, crossing his arms as he continues to look at you. 

“Did you prune the hydrangeas yourself, or did Mikasa do them?” he adds. 

“I did them.” 

“Hm. Looks pretty decent.” 

“Did you come here to talk to me about hydrangeas?” you ask sarcastically.

“No,” Eren says simply. “Just wanted to ask if you were close with Jean. I saw he gave you a ride to work today.” 

“Yeah. My cars in the shop, so he offered to drive me.” 

“Oh,” Eren says, and you swear that you can hear the relief in his voice. “How long is it in the shop for?”

“Till the end of the week.” 

“I might as well pick you up for the next two days then,” Eren adds, shrugging in an obvious attempt to seem casual. “That way you don’t have to deal with him talking about his annoying ass car the whole way over.” 

You consider the offer. You’re not sure what Eren’s motive is for doing this, and a part of you wants to say no, just to recapture some of your pride after his initial rejection. 

“Nah,” you say after a moment. “I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong impression.” 

Eren seems taken aback, and he takes another step further, his expression almost apologetic-or as apologetic as Eren can look. 

“Hey, look, about that-”

“You don’t have to explain, I get it,” you say.

“Let me drive you, yeah?” Eren says, his voice almost pleading, before taking a step back, seeming to remember himself. “Besides-there’s some stuff I want to talk to you about. Please. Just for two days. Let me make it up to you.” 

“Hmm…” you say, pretending to consider. Eren rolls his eyes and groans, seemingly ready to add something else, and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Okay! Fine! You can drive me.” 

“Cool,” Eren says, letting out a breath of relief, his hands in his pockets. “Well-I’ll see you out there.” 

“See you,” you say softly, and watch him go. 

***

Despite your ability to keep somewhat of an unaffected facade around Eren in the shed, you spend the rest of the day replaying your conversation, your hands shaking as you realize that in a matter of hours, you will be alone in a car with him for an extended period of time. 

The one part of your conversation that confused you was the fact that Eren wants to talk to you about something. You doubt that he’s changed his mind about his rejection of you-he seemed pretty adamant about that. So a part of you wonders if it isn’t just you, if maybe he feels a pull towards you just like you feel towards him. Then again, that may be wishful thinking on your part. 

After several agonizing hours, you finally find yourself in the passenger’s seat of Eren’s car. Unlike Jean’s car, Eren’s is much bigger, less sleek, and has some scratches on it from use. He turns on the Bluetooth on his phone as soon as you put the seat belt on, and soft rap starts playing through the speakers as he pulls out of the parking lot. 

“You can put your address in my phone,” Eren says, giving you the password. His phone screen is hopelessly cracked, and you struggle to enter the address on the screen before putting the phone back in the cupholder. 

“So,” you say, deciding to prevent an uncomfortable silence, “What did you want to talk to me about-” 

Eren’s not listening to you; he’s giving the middle finger to a red BMW that cut him off as he was trying to make a U-turn. 

“Ugh. I hate driving in this fucking town. I’m gonna go live in the fucking woods or something, I swear to god,” he says. You blink, taken aback. He turns back to look at you as soon as he finishes the U-turn, and you can’t help but notice his short-sleeved black t-shirt that shows off the definition of his slightly tan arms, and his lithe hands as he grips the wheel. He has a tattoo on his arm that you never noticed before, but the script is too small for you to read it. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking what you wanted to talk to me about,” you say, amused. 

“Shit, you’re right,” Eren says. He looks at you for a moment, an almost sheepish look on his face as he speaks. “This might be rude but-have we met before? And I just forgot?” 

A jolt goes through you at the words, before the relief hits. So it’s not just you, then. 

“I was thinking that too,” you say tentatively. “But I’ve never been to this area before, so I wasn’t sure-” 

“Can you skip this song for me? I don’t know why I put this in my playlist,” Eren says. 

“Uh-yeah, sure,” you say, reaching for his phone to press skip. “Anyway-”

“That explains it then. You’re from the east, right? I road trip a lot, I must have met you along the way.” 

“Yeah. Sure. I guess,” you say, not convinced. 

“That explains the dream I had.”

“...The...the what?” you ask him. Your chest starts to feel strange once more, as it often does around Eren, but this time it’s as you’re getting closer to something, to some kind of truth. 

“I dreamt about you. Like just before you started working here,” Eren says, nonchalant, as if the same thing didn't happen to you right before you decided to move halfway across the country. “I heard this theory that says everyone you see in your dream, you’ve probably met before. Even if you didn’t realize it. So I’m thinking we met when I was roadtripping at some point-”

“I dreamt about you too,” you say, the words falling from you before you can stop them. “right before I started working here.” 

Eren stops the car; you’ve arrived outside your apartment complex. His mouth is set into a firm line, as if you’ve said something out of place. 

“That’s a weird coincidence.” he stretches out the word ‘coincidence’ more than you think he should, and suddenly everything starts to make sense to you, everything starts clicking into place. You smile a sad smile, because you know you finally have the upper hand. 

“You dream about me every night,” you say to him confidently. “And you have visions too. Just like I do. You just don’t want to admit it.” 

Eren unlocks the car doors. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and as you climb out of the car and shut the door behind you, the pain and longing in his voice hits you like an aftershock.

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came out of nowehere lol, but i would love to know your thoughts! would you like more? any thoughts on what's next? feel free to leave a comment if you can, they make my day <333


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